Grapefruit.

In my meditation, focusing on manifesting my purpose in life, two grapefruits came to me. It looked as though two hands were grabbing boobs, but indeed, they were grapefruits!


Juicy, round, pink and sweet-scenting.


From the grapefruits came a wave of seafoam green stones and magenta/ fuscia lucid-stones that meshed into one another. There were crystal chunks, and pulsing drops of color, like food dye diffusing in a cup of water. 


Fire and water coming together to simmer and settle. Sipping the waves and pulses of existence, like a bee sipping nectar, lips sipping breath. 


The grapefruits are plump fruit that sit on my chest. I let them breath when I arch my back. They loosen when I shake my chest, squirm, let out moans and gasps and tension. 

When my mom was pregnant with me, she later told me that she craved grapefruit nonstop.


My grandma would serve grapefruit before dinner as a palate wetter preluding the meal. Grapefruit served as stepping stones for grumbly bellies to hop from rock to rock over the river and reach the delicious thanksgiving that was waiting on the other side of the bank.


Light, sweet, yet fleshy and filled with pockets of jewels. Each little jewel with their own DNA; grapefruit is in my DNA.


It was bittersweet, so my grandma added sugar on the grapefruit in hopes of artificially creating sweetness... and... to bury that which was overtly sour and not pleasant --to be uncovered and flushed out by later generations.


Grapefruit's lovely aroma became masked with a scent of sucrose-- a common sugar.


Their massive size and exorbitant amount of juice was overwhelming. Therefore, she had to to cut them up into neat slices within their skin, each boxed in with tall surrounding walls, to be easily hollowed out by a shiny spoon. When depleted from fully feeling, their curves were squashed, mushed, wilted. 

This is my inherited foundation.

The forms of the grapefruit have weaved through my life and the lives of the woman who came before me.

Holding onto grapefruits, not knowing why, but feeling their joy, their horror, their depth and caves of jewels.

Now, they sit on my chest, growing older and riper each day. Filling with wisdom and an appreciation for juicy love. 

Ava is an apprentice in the Bio-Mystical Womb Apprenticeship. You can contact them at avashaevel@gmail.com

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